Endless Nights
by Nightfan
Summary: Marrow comes to evolution-verse, along with Gambit. What does he know that she doesn't about the morlock massacre? Chapter 14 **at long last** I may actually finish this... sometime this year...
1. Default Chapter

I recently found that Spyke is the result of gender-bending. That's right, he is not as original a character as y'all thought. 

Summary: Spyke meets his feminine bad tempered counterpart…

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!! Marrow is not mine, Spyke is not mine, so on, so forth. All characters are © Marvel Comics. 

Endless Nights

By Nightfan

The moon is rising: a pale orb in the ink black sky. Not a star is to be seen within the perimeters of this polluted city, the smoke reaching your eyes, causing them to burn and water. The points of brightness all come from constantly flashing neon lights, blinking high above the cars that are drag racing, tires screeching as the smell of burning rubber rises to your nostrils. A few high school students litter the streets, cigarette smoke unfurling from their nostrils in long, gray tendrils. Other passers-by hurry through the streets, eager to get out of the flurry of snow flakes which hit the ground, only to be trodden into a cold, watery, brown slush on the sidewalk. 

This is half of my world. The other half is the darkness of the Manhattan sewers which coincide with our morlock tunnels. The outside world is where I go to steal my food, up into the pollution along with the pretty human fleshbags. Yes, you are detecting a _hint_ of remorse. Just a hint. 

Christmas is supposed to be a season filled with love and caring. Warmth. My trenchcoat is worn through at the elbows, covered in patches that I have sewn on halfheartedly. I spend my nights awake, waiting to make a thug rue the day that he decided to play basketball with the mutant. Wave after wave of pain I feel, my mutant power reminding me that the moment that I close my eyes, could be eternal. A bone protrudes from the side of my nose, and as the pain will grow worse if I ignore it, I pluck the obtrusion from my face. Warmth…caring? These are words spoken in an alien tongue…

The morlock massacre has taken away everything that I ever loved; but I suppose that's my fault as well. Anything that comes near me dies. When you live your life away from something you get perspective. Humans, I can see for what they truly are. The prejudiced animals of hate and miscomprehension, fearing everything that is different in the slightest bit from themselves. Take Charles Darwin! The mastermind behind the "theory" (ha!) of evolution, ridiculed by his fellows and peers, because he had a new idea. An idea that would make people uneasy, for the very reason why us mutants are despised; despised , and looked on as monsters. I tell you, I look as much like Frankenstine as can be possible, but I am no monster.

The wind can keep on blowing, and the drag racers can their slush into my face, but these Homo Sapiens will never understand the life of a mutant, could never put themselves in the shoes of the ones who they ridicule the day long. We, the mutants are the victims. There is no good and evil in this world, there is only power, and those to weak to see it. Much as we like to tell ourselves how wicked a thing that person did, it was he who was the conquering hero, was it not? 

I need no-one. No single person do I depend on. I am Sarah…Sarah of the Morlocks, and humanity will rue the day that it saw my face. 

This was a PROLOGUE. That is why it is short. Please, r+r, tell me whether or not I should continue???

Casu consulto,

Nightfan


	2. Mall rats

Thanks for reviewing. (and yes, I quite agree, Evan is terribly annoying.) Well, anyway,

I own nothing except for the clothes on my back. I really don't think that I could sell black clothing for the thousands of dollars that it takes to buy a comic book character. Anyway…on with the show.

****

Chapter 2

The mansion:

A thud resounded through the mansion, and as the inhabitants ran out into the hall, a bony spike protruding through the bathroom door made it clear what had happened.

"KURT!"

A dull muffled sound of imploding air was heard from inside the bathroom, and Kurt appeared halfway down the hallway, his fur wet and sticking to his body, making him look slightly like a drowned cat. 

Evan burst out of the bathroom clad in a pink towel, viciously wiping away the water that was dripping down from his wet hair. His eyes narrowed as he saw the blue elf creeping down the hallway.

"Stop where you are," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. Kurt broke into a run. 

Before long, the hallway had turned into a battlezone, porcupine-like quills flying in all directions. 

The girls had all gone back to bed, partly for cover, and partly out of disgust from this display of testosterone. Kitty, in fact had not bothered to get out of bed in the first place 

The boys were standing out in the hallway, Kurt having pulled the same stunt on them at one point or another in time. When one of Evan's spikes caught Kurt's shirt, pinning him to the wall, a few cheered, and the same people gave boo's and razzes when Kurt teleported out of sight. 

"Give it up Ev, he's probably down their nursing his wounds with bacon."

"Yeah, c'mon Ev. Get dressed, and let's get some breakfast."

Muttered agreements came from the rest of the guys, as they trooped down to eat. Sure enough, there was Kurt seated at the table, his plate heaped high with food. The boys shot him glares and scathing looks as they joined the Professor, Logan, Ororo and Kurt. 

A morning cry echoed through the house.

"WHO TOOK MY PINK TOWEL???!" 

Everyone looked at Evan, while the professor merely smiled. Logan looked up briefly, before snorting and returning to his edition of 'The New England Times'. 

"I'll bring it to you Kitty…" Evan started, but was silenced by a single sweep of Ororo's eyes.

"**_I _**shall bring it Kitty," she called up the stairs, retrieved the towel, and gave Evan a sharp smack on the backside of his head.

Evan began to turn a dark crimson color under the amused stares of his peers. 

The girls began to file in next, slowly filling in the remaining slots at the table and serving themselves generous portions of the fruit salad. Soon, the dining room was filled with chatter, talk of what to get each other for Christmas, talk of what the outcome of the next basketball game was going to be…and all the while, the fire was merrily crackling and spitting out charred log and pine cone. The Christmas tree was bare, ready for the decorating that would take place that evening

The professor cleared his throat, and immediately, the chatter halted, and the only sounds in the room were coming from the bread that Kurt was stuffing in his mouth

"Students, I have arranged a ride to the Bayville mall for you to go Christmas shopping with Mr. Logan." Any joy which the students had shown at the first part of the statement were wiped off of every face at the latter. 

No-one quite had enough courage to groan, especially as Logan had folded up his newspaper, and was smirking out at them. 

"Those of you who wish to go may leave at noon in the x-van. Those of you who wish to stay will have stamina tests run with myself and Storm."

Within the next ten seconds, no-one was left in the dining room, they had all disappeared, with or without the use of their mutant powers. Girls were in their rooms holding up black skirts to their waists, and earrings to their ears, while the boys pulled sweatshirts over their heads, and grabbed a pair of trousers from the floor. 

Kitty walked out of the door, dressed in a tight, hip-hugging mini skirt, thick woolen tights and a long sleeved stretchy black polyester shirt with a brown faux fur collar. She walked the few doors down, and knocked on Kurt's door. Kurt came out (wearing his inducer)closely followed by Evan, who gave a low whistle when he saw her. 

"Hey, kitty cat…a mini skirt…in the SNOW??"

"I'm wearing wool tights."

"A miniskirt, katzchen? Not even knee length?"

"Males…"

Rahne walked up dressed in a black fur trenchcoat, tight leather pants, ad a long sleeved turtleneck.

"Hey gang. Kitty…aren't you going to be cold?"

Kurt and Evan leaned on each other and smirked. 

**__**

Later…

*The boys had long since retired to the food court, while the girls with never-ending shopping stamina were prowling through the bargain racks at the Gap and Old Navy.* From some store along the way Kurt and Evan had picked up Santa hats, whose bobbles flashed annoyingly from red to green, and then back to white. The two were now sitting slightly away from the other guys at the mansion, talking between themselves. In front of them there appeared to be a massacred half-cow inside buns, wrappers of two double whoppers with cheese, supersized cokes and fries, and in front of only Kurt, add two apple pies and a cheesecake. Bags were piled next to the two, and as they talked, they compared Christmas presents.     "Look what I got for Rogue…"
"Cool! She'll really like that…"     "The New aqua c-d!"
"Britney Spears is HOT, dude." Their thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a girl jumping easily over their table. That in itself wasn't so strange. What was, is that post doing this, bones erupted from her hands, and she began to scale the wall holding in her mouth a large amount of food.     Two tables over, Scott stood up. 
"Attack formation. We need to clean this up FAST."     The girls began to emerge from the stores, and joined the rest of the gang in their wild chase.
"Evan!" Kurt yelled.     "Right." 
Running to catch up to Kurt, Evan lay a hand on Kurt's shoulder. **    *BAMF
*** "Prepare for re-entry." **    *BAMF
***     The girl let out a cry of annoyance seeing them blocking her way.
"Who's side are you on ANYWAY?"     Jumping off the edge, and using a bone protruding from her elbow to decrease the speed of her fall by raking it down the wall, she ran for the exit.
"Ha! Thought you could catch…"     Logan's silhouette stood framed in the doorway. A claw appeared on either side of the girl's neck.
    "…Me…"
    She fainted, and Logan stood aside to let her hit the ground, earning him many glares from the teens.
    "What?" 
_    Okay, Please review everybody. I LOVE to read them. Any suggestions, comments, etc. are VERY welcome. Constructive criticism is also welcome.
_Casu Consulto,     Nightfan


	3. Enter: Marrow, stage right

Thank you, all who reviewed. 

I tried selling my clothes to buy the characters, but as formerly noted, all that they fetched was $23.99. Now all I own are two Siamese cats who are beginning to look veeerrry hungry...

**__**

Chapter 3

The drive back to the mansion was absolutely silent. Scott was furious with Logan, and Logan though feeling a bit uneasy wasn't about to admit that to a high school student. Cigar fumes were pouring out of Logan's mouth, engulfing his face in the gray tendrils, and hiding him from view. (The students kind of hoped that the windshield wouldn't be hidden from Logan's own view.)

The back seat had become quite a pileup, this unnamed girl lying across fours people's laps. Her head was resting on Kurt, and he was so disturbed by her head lolling back and forth at each bump in the road, that he freed his tail from behind him, and wrapped it around her neck so as to hold it still. Evan, sitting next to Kurt was looking at the bones protruding from the gaps between her fingers. 

The silence was broken abruptly when the car jarred to a halt, and Logan hopped out, after extracting the key. 

Scott, after watching Wolverine's retreating back for half a minute was the first to speak.

"Right then. Um…help me people…" he said, pointing to the midriff that was on his lap. 

Kurt released the girl's neck from the grip that his tail had on it, and lifted upwards…

…giving the girl the extra momentum that she needed to clear the front seat and scramble through Logan's open door. 

"Who the ***HELL*** are you people?" she yelled at the car after she was about fifty meters away.

"We're…" ***BAMF*** "…the x-men." 

Kurt caught her around the wrist to stop her from running away again.

"Leave me ***ALONE*!" **sheyelled, trying to break free of Kurt's grip, but to no avail. As this didn't work she thrashed out, missing his skin entirely, but delving a spike deep into the watch on his wrist. His image flickered, and died, revealing his frightened, wide open yellow eyes.

Her mouth opened, like a wide gash in her face, but quickly turned into a sneer.

"Ha! Afraid to show your face, eh? If you hide behind these electronic gismos, you're no better then the flatscans that despise you **_for_** your face."

A dark figure loomed up behind Kurt, while a brown shadow circled around the girl's ankles, teeth bared, and hackles raised. 

"And if you run from these, 'flatscans,' then you are truly more cowardly then they."

The small girl drew herself up to her full height, only reaching up to Cyclops's shoulder. Her eyes were narrowed, and the words that she snarled were truly Rahne-worthy. 

"I am nobody's coward."

Cyclops's eyebrows went up beyond his hairline at this. 

"Follow me, and you can prove it."

She eyed him suspiciously, like a cat who doesn't quite trust that the mouse that it has caught is really dead. Cyclops turned around, and began to march back toward the mansion, followed by Rahne, still in wolf form, Spyke, who gave a furtive glance over his shoulder, and Kurt bounding ahead on all fours like a large blue dog. Maybe it was just being ignored, (for once) or maybe it was Cyclops' challenge, but whatever the reason, the girl followed the gang to the mansion, walking only a few steps behind. 

Cyclops knocked, and when the door opened, the girl went swaggering in. Professor Xavier waited inside the door.

"Ah Scott, this is she?"

Scott started, but realization was quick to dawn.

"Yeah, this is her."

She stood uncomfortably squirming under the professor's penetrating gaze. 

"What's your name, child."

"Marrow. I'm not a child…I'm sixteen."

"Your real name."

"Sarah. Sarah…of the morlocks."

Gambit started, but the rest of the gang looked confused. Logan and the professor both nodded.

"Do you need to…"

"I don't need anyone. I've been just FINE for my whole life, and I don't need any flatscan loving 'x-men' to help me."

A bone had been growing through the bridge of her nose as she talked. She reached to pull it out, and gave a silent gasp at the sudden pain. Blood flowed down her face, but within seconds, it was gone, no sign of any injury.

Spyke approached her, as one would approach a dog that has been caged up for weeks, and you're afraid that it will either bolt, or attack.

"I'm Evan. Do you, like, have control over your bone growth, or is it still pretty random?"

No answer.

"I thought so. You can't control it properly, can you? You never learned."

Her eyes began to seethe in fury.

"We can help you. The professor teaches all of us how to control our powers. If you stay, they'll develop; grow more powerful…"

She could see that he was trying to sucker her into staying. 

"Listen here pal, I may not be as pretty as the girls YOU'RE surrounded by, but I damn sure know how to protect myself. I DON'T need anybody…ARGHHHHH!"

A bone was rapidly sprouting from her temple, evidently causing her a great deal of pain. 

"Look, don't be such a bonehead. (no pun intended.)"

Without another word, he grabbed her arm, and pulled her up the stairs, she only partly resisting. Snickers arose from the rest of the girls.

"Did you see her hair? Like, total tomboy."

"Evan finally found SOMEONE who likes him."

"Hah…bonehead **giggle**"

Shaking his head at the lack of acceptance in this world, Kurt disappeared in a flash of smoke and brimstone. He appeared upstairs, and walked slowly down the hall, tail dragging on the ground behind him. 

HIDING BEHIND GADGETS?

"This will be your room."

"Hmmm. Better than the sewers, I suppose." She absentmindedly began to scratch a space between her shoulder-blades. 

"Here. Let me help…"

With a few long strides, he reached the bed, and raked his fingernails down her back. She fairly purred in pleasure, and for the next five minutes, even after the itch was long gone, he continued.

"Oh well, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours," she commented.

Getting behind Evan, she ran her long fingernails up and down his back, until he was fairly shivering in pleasure. He was absolutely off-guard, and if Kurt had not burst in when he did, Evan would have been unconscious, or dead. 

**__**

R&R please. (Makes puppy eyes, and lower lip trembles.) Please!

Casu Consulto,

Nightfan


	4. Marrow of the xmen

Thank you all you reviewers. I really appreciate it, and LOVE to read them. Also in explanation, I am not sure if Gambit appears in x-men evolution (I live abroad, and the series only appears around Easter) but if he doesn't, he is in this story for the simple reason that he is one of Marrow's closest friends in the comics. (also, he did something that will become apparent in later chapters.) **    Disclaimer
**: Don't sue, all my money is in Christmas present form currently. Wait a couple of months. **__**

Chapter 4

During dinner that night, Sarah, Evan and professor Xavier were all absent from the table. Presumably, she was being judged; the final decisions on whether or not she was to stay were being made, while others were saying "pass the bread."

Xavier's office: 

"Leave me **ALONE**. Don't **TOUCH** me! Why the _hell_ can't you people just **leave me ALONE?"**

"Sarah…calm down…" 

"You can't tell _me_ what to do!"

"…We are merely trying to help."

"Help with what, baldie? Do you think I'm crazy? DO YOU?"

"Understatement of the CENTURY."

"Evan, BE QUIET!"

"Well, I'll tell YOU something, pops. Survival of the fittest. I am NOT going to be manipulated THAT easily, and I'd like to see you try. Of course, you WON'T kill me, will you? That's not your style. EVERYONE knows about the famous professor Charles Francis Xavier, and how he will unite human and mutantkind. People are DYING because of you, 'sir'. You make humans hate mutants even **more**! Families are dying, whole colonies being eradicated. Eradicated…like mine was. You can't depend on anyone, and as that porcupine over there just showed, you can't trust anyone either." 

Xavier showed no surprise at her words, and seemed even more pleased at the vehemence and passion with which she spoke. When he voiced an opinion, these feelings showed through in his pleased tone. 

"Thank you, Sarah. You have a feral like intelligence, a need to survive built in. Of course, you _think_ that you don't need anyone, but the truth is, humans are social creatures…"

"I'm not human."

"…As are mutants."

Evan, who had remained silent and still through this mini-argument suddenly spoke, as a small child might cry after unsuccessful attempts at getting his mother's attention.

"OK. Marrow...Sarah…cut all this stupid independent crap. Even if you 'don't need anybody' at least staying at Xavier's PEACEFULLY will give you food, right? Without food, you starve; it's not rocket science. And, you can't control your powers. Your bone growth is random, and that'll turn out dangerous for YOU. If you won't stay here for the greater good, stay here to LIVE. It's not a bad deal, you learn how to control your powers, get fed AND get a bonus fight every now and then. Besides, you might surprise yourself by actually liking it here."

Sarah was doing some quick thinking. Staying here, being fed well, AND a possibility of stopping the pain that racked her body, versus starving? It really didn't seem like much of a choice come to think of it…

"…Yes…yes, I'll stay."

As if fearing that a lightning bolt would strike her out of nowhere (actually, not that unusual in this house,) she got to her feet, and ran from the room. 

Professor Xavier looked at Evan.

"Evan…perhaps we should add you to the regular recruiter list?"

No answer came from Evan immediately, and when he did speak, it was totally unrelated.

"Professor, what if she double crosses or betrays us? I mean, not to whine (Nightfan interrupts. Evan whine? Never…) but she DID attack me. And the way she was talking…she sounded much more like a member of the BROTHERHOOD than a member of the x-men."

"No, she will not do this. I probed her mind…I would not let anyone on the team who had beforehand malicious potential, and she KNOWS the values of loyalty. When she gives her word…it will be forever. Let's hope."

Evan stayed silent processing this information. 

"Evan, go join the rest at the table. Sarah will not dine with you tonight, but you will have a danger room session after dinner, and she will join you there."

"…Thank you professor."

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Sarah's room: 

Sarah sat in her room rocking back and forth on her bed, head on her knees. Scott stood by her open door, watching her closely. He looked at her face, though not being able to see anything except shades of red through his visor, he could see that she was about fifteen. Her hair was cut short and spiked back, defining the illusion that he was looking at a punk. Her forehead was currently covered in what appeared to be a helmet, but upon closer inspection turned out to be a solid plate of bone. He made a sound in his throat, drawing her attention.

"Who's there?"

Scott took a step back before stepping into the room, so that it looked as though he had been in full stride when he walked in.

"Hi," he said brightly. "I just came to drop off your uniform; the professor gave us all one when we were new. Oh, and we're having a fighting session with Wolverine at the end of the west corridor in half an hour."

She remained unmoving, so Scott crossed the room in several strides, and deposited the neatly folded bundle on her bed. Her eyes remained utterly focused and unblinking, watching his back until he had left the room entirely. 

She ran her hands over the spandex material, before letting the folds flow over her body. Her filthy ripped leggings and metallica T-shirt lay abandoned in the corner next to a trenchcoat that she had been wearing when the x-men found her. A mirror was handy on the back of the door, so she swaggered over to it and looked critically at herself. This uniform that she wore was mostly blue and green, but at the neck and arms, a thin yellow band was to be seen. The top was sleeveless, and midriff baring, while the trousers were skintight. A Pair of steel toed construction boots reached up over her calves to her knees.

"Yes. I am…Marrow…of the x-men. Marrow of the x-men!" Symmetrically correct bones sprouted from her shoulders, but for once, the pain didn't bother her. The blood soon clotted, and dried into brown pools on her arms. She did not reach to pull out the ridges that protruding from her skin, in contradiction, she reached up and caressed them Deadly sharp they were, and a pale whitish-brown in color. Rough to the touch…like her personality. 

She walked purposefully down the hall to the shared bathroom. The red and white tiles reflected the appearing moonlight briefly before she flicked on the light, and shut the door with a soft 'click'. Grabbing a red cloth, turning on the tap and adjusting it to a lukewarm temperature, she scrubbed harshly at the blood that lay brown and cracking on her arm, reached to pull out the bones from her shoulders, and then surprised herself by deciding against it. 

As the last of the blood was washed from her body, she flipped off the light, and stood in the dark for a few seconds before opening the door and walking down the hall towards the west corridor.

Professor Xavier and Ororo walked out from behind the Ionic style pillar behind which they had been standing.

"Professor, do you think…she's safe for the rest of the students?"

Professor Xavier stood silent for a few moments before answering this, not as confident or reassuring away from Evan.

"I think…I think that every soul and heart has two sides, Ororo. The chance that she will turn on us is equal to the chance that Kitty or Kurt might turn on us. She has seen so much suffering in her short life…so much vengeance waiting to come out. The blood that she has seen…might just make her reluctant to kill herself, though she is well capable of it. She is safe…if she _feels _for this team."

Marrow…of the x-men!

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@


	5. The danger room

Thank you reviewers. As previously stated, I _live_ to read them. Any questions/comments, feel free to drop me a line at marthehoffmann@hotmail.com OK, here we go…

Disclaimer: Never will own 'em, don't really think that's possible with a dollar a week allowance…don't sue. (even though it is highly doubtful in my mind that any marvel staff would be at this site reading my fic. 

**__**

Chapter 5

Marrow's POV

When I reached the west corridor, everyone was already assembled outside, as if they were waiting for me. A pack of dogs waiting for the cat. 

"Sarah, this is the Danger Room, where you will complete a certain number of hours allotted each week in training," said the professor wheeling up behind. 

I acknowledged his words swiftly, afraid to fail to look one place while I may be attacked from another. 

The team began filing in, for some reason, half of them carting bags of popcorn, chips, soda, and any other kind of junk food conceivable. A pile was built up along the side wall, and chairs were drawn up, much to the disapproval of Logan, who stood waiting for Xavier to give the word to begin with his arms folded.

The professor finished his chat with Storm in undertones before giving a meaningful look to Logan.

"Right. The object is ta seek out the rest o' the team in a landscape of MY choosing, and try ta render them defenseless without killing anyone We will introduce ya one at a time to the landscape, and giving ya all time to hide without your peers viewing. Powers are fair game. Now if you'll turn to the wall…"

I really don't know what to make of him.

This was a game of thumbs up seven up. Logan tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed towards the hatch that would take me down to the belly of the beast: the innards of the Danger Room. I walked swiftly, not wanting to show the fear that I was feeling inside, slightly embarrassed that I was feeling this way. Probably needn't have bothered. I know now that he could smell my emotions reeling off of me, like flies on a dead rat carcass down in the sewers where I once lived. 

As I stepped in, all I saw was a huge, rolling cityscape: a concrete jungle. Were they joking? This was too perfect…half my life had been spent wading through the muck and grime in alleyways after dark. Hah…I knew how to find the best hiding places in any city…uh oh.

I saw a fiery red head walk right past my alley…and then backtrack. I sunk into the shadows next to a trash can full of rotting garbage. The smell didn't bother me…but it bothered red…

"Ugh! Yuck that's disgusting…"

I pinned her pretty hands right above her head, and stuck two in the fabric that enveloped her legs for good measure. 

"That's a GOOD pretty girl. You stay nice and still now, and keep nice and quiet for Sarah. I'll be back…"

"SCOTT! KURT, EVAN, KITTY, **SOMEBODY**!!! She's here!!!!"

I lifted my hand to put a red mark on that face of hers, when a mechanical voice rang out through the area, reverberating.

"Interference. Jean Gray no longer operational. Terminate her from program."

I smirked…I won't deny it.

"So…being a self righteous _bitch_ has its consequences, eh red?"

She sent those bone shafts flying right back at me, before leaving the danger room. I didn't care…because I could hear her getting a tongue lashing from Logan…something that I KNEW I wouldn't want.

"YOU DO NOT GIVE AWAY YOUR POSITION!!! That's the whole point of the EXERCISE Jean…"

My Jubilation was short lived. 

"Güten tag, fraulein!"

Tendrils of smoke and brimstone encased me, as with a soft **BAMF** the blue boy, Kurt appeared. I feel guilty about what I said…he can't help his appearance…but I was being manipulative. Great…that's the way to defend yourself. 'I was being manipulative.'

I knew that I couldn't deal with him the same way I dealt with red…HE had a brain. I surveyed him analytically. His large, yellow eyes were narrowed in suspicion, his legs bent almost into a crouching position. His hands were ready to attack if I did, and his tail was tensed up, looking for a way to help. Perfect white fangs, glinting in the flashing of the neon lights above our heads were bared in a snarl.

I held in my hands two bone sheaths which I had pulled out of my back moments before. I made as if to spring on him, while only digging the deadly sharp weapons into the wall and starting to scale it.

He followed me. I guess I found out why they call him Night_crawler_

****

*SHIT*

He was obviously a lot more skilled at this than I, and soon caught me. His tail wrapped around my waist, tightening just enough to force the air out of my lungs. Unfortunately…with no air muscles don't work. As aforementioned, my bonegrowth is random. Yet…as I was trying desperately to get loose…was it a simple fluke that a sharp belt of spikes started to grow out of my waist? Well, fluke or no fluke, it hurt him. I fell ten feet, and landed cat-like on my feet. NO WAY was I going to stay there. I headed out of there. I'd rather make my way out into the open then be there when Kurt regains consciousness.

I took off running down the street, looking only briefly over my shoulder to see if Kurt had gotten up. It was only those brief three seconds that Spyke needed. 

"Hey, bonehead. Over here."

Reluctant beyond all reason, I turned to look him in the face. I set my jaw and tried to look tough, but the truth was, he KNEW how to control his power, and I didn't. 

He grinned. He was going to win, and he knew it. This was his ground, he knew the city above ground at least as well as I did. Unless…

"You gotta catch me, city boy!"

I set off at a sprint, as fast as I could go. I ran until my lungs felt as though they were on fire and my chest burned, but I didn't stop. I could hear his footsteps behind me, heavily pounding, closer by the millisecond. 

"Oh thank God."

I saw what I needed. A Manhole. 

Prising the top off quickly, I had just enough time to grin at Evan and blow him a mock kiss before slipping below ground and pulling the cover back on behind me. Seconds after I got down the stepladder, I heard the cover rattling above my head. None of that mattered no, though. I was HOME, back where I belonged. For the time being, at least. 

Evan broke the cover off, and headed down that ladder like there was no tomorrow. I saw his nose wrinkle at the stench that I had become immune to years ago. 

I jumped into the sludge without a second thought, and ran through it, watching the rats scurry away in my wake. The city boy hesitated for too long. I was into the tunnels, and he would never find me. It was like a maze, and I was the Minotaur. If he was smart, he would turn back, before I ate him alive.

He threw a furtive glance down the tunnel that I had SEEMINGLY disappeared down, and resigned, climbed back up the ladder.

"Coward," I hissed from behind him. 

After I got out of my beloved sewers, everything else just…flowed. No one else was much of a challenge, all being used to 'teamwork' and being separated make them weaklings. 

I got rid of Scott with a paperclip 'grappling hook' to his visor. I wonder if he ever found it? Well, now that I'd reduced the great and powerful team leader to covering his eyes with has hands, and groping around on the cold, rocky asphalt for his glasses, I KNEW the rest of the team would be a cinch.

"Scotty, to your left," I whispered, indicating the building where I had left the object of his desire.

"Yeah, right."

I left, doubled over with laughter.

This was beginning to get fun…. 

Rahne's power was absolutely no use in the city. Her wolfish form was of no use, and without it…she ran like a flatscan. 

I left Bobby by the heat vent. Oh, well, he'll pull himself back together eventually.

And so it continued, person after person after person disposed of. The x-men were a cinch to take care of when divided…I've got to remember that. Knowledge of strength and weakness always come in handy. Everyone in fact had fallen…all except for one. 

Gambit.

"Well, dis be a surprise, chére. De new femme be de one ta beat the rest, but you got a lot to learn. You neva gonna beat Gambit!"

"Well…finally…one person who has a little spark!"

"Oh…I be more of a flame den a spark. Watch.!"

From some little pocket in that long, brown trenchcoat, he extracted a card…which moments later came whistling through the dark at me. 

"MISSED!"

He smirked as the plastic pipe came crashing down onto me, pinning me to the ground. Inwardly, I was marveling at the cleverness of his action, but I would never admit it. 

"Like I said chére, you got a lot to learn."

He offered me his hand, and I took it, strangely not feeling TERRIBLE about losing. Just REALLY bad. 

Logan met us at the door on our way out.

"Good job, you two. Great workout!" he said, though a little gruffly. I looked up at the Cajun, and at the last moment, when his red-on black eyes met mine, I looked away though a lingering smile stayed on my lips afterwards.

I think I'm gonna fit in here. Just maybe.

Okay guys, that was it! **REVIEW!** If an author can take the time to write the fic, the least you can do is review it. 


	6. Rogue, Marrow and adventures with elves

Once again, thank you reviewers. I however will not update until I have at least twenty reviews. JUST TWO MORE NEEDED FOLKS!!!!! I put in this chapter, because as it shows in the comics, Marrow is NOT always tough: she can be sentimental, just like everyone else!!!

Yup. I'm sure it comes as a HUGE shock to everyone that I DO NOT own x-men, in any shape or form. (Well, maybe mentally…) 

****

Chapter 6

The incident in the danger room had given everyone a respect for the small mutant with the bad attitude. She had brains: did not depend on her powers to get her out of tough situations, like today. Both Logan and professor Xavier were well pleased with her use of tactics, and the way she put brain over brawn. Of course, the fact that she had won Xavier's favor so early in her stay at the mansion only aroused jealous feelings in her direction. 

Now, Sarah when arriving at the mansion came with the clothes she had been wearing ONLY. Thus far, she had continued to wear her uniform, it being the only thing she owned that wasn't midway to the trash compactor. This wouldn't so; not with school starting up again within the week. Jean, Kitty and Rogue had been appointed to take her to the mall, while Kurt and Bobby were going along to finish Christmas shopping.     "Jean, you are permitted to spend two hundred dollars on clothing for the girl. Please make sure that it is spent ON THE GIRL."
Jean looked insulted, and with a fake looking pout replied:     "Professor, we all have MORE than enough clothes, and we would ***never*** spend ANY money on ourselves when we are being sent out on an assignment!"
Rogue snorted in half concealed laughter before adding in an undertone to Sarah,     "Out of all the people here that would shop for herself the DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS, ah think that Jean's the only one who would."
It was Sarah's turn to laugh now. She looked up at the Rogue, who was quite a bit taller than her, as Sarah had always been quite small for her age. Rogue's eyes were fixed on the professor who was talking. Sarah could tell that behind the hard, sarcastic personality that she seemed to have, behind it, there was just a normal girl. Or an abnormal girl hiding behind the mask of humanity. Oh God, is that what I do? Hide, just like I accused Kurt of doing?     She arose from her bubble of thought when she felt a gloved hand tugging at her arm.
"C'mon already. Ah've been waiting for like, a minute already."     Wordlessly, Sarah allowed herself to be tugged out to the car, which left the carport in a screech of tires. (Jean was driving) All the way to the mall, Sarah was engrossed in a rapt contemplation: 'had she judged these people too harshly?' 'Why would they even WANT to look after me after what I was like when they first saw me?'
While she was thinking these thoughts, the car drew up into the parking lot of the Bayville mall. Marrow skipped opening the door, as Scott's car was a convertible. Kitty and Jean looked at her in disdain, while Rogue, on the other hand burst into the first real smile that Marrow had seen out of her. Primly straightening her reindeer antlers, Kitty opened the door, and shut it rather loudly, as if to say, "this is how REAL girls behave." Once inside the mall, Rogue and Marrow walked behind the other two, looking enviously at Kurt and Bobby who had split off and disappeared into a cd store. Squeals kept erupting from Kitty and Jean as they ran from rack to rack of 'bargain, holiday sales.' "Oh Sarah, this skirt is SOOO, like, you!"     Rogue made a semi-gagging noise as she saw the brilliant green miniskirt that Kitty had held up in front of marrow.
"Um…I don't wear skirts."     Now the bitterness flowed. There was an almost visible line between Kitty and Jean, Marrow and Rogue. 
    "Ah'll take her shopping fer clothes. 'S not like ah'm doin' anythin' anyway."
Sarah looked up at Rogue, gratitude flowing from her eyes, while Kitty and Jean looked daggers.     "Um…Rogue, you don't exactly have…a FLAMBOYANT taste in clothes…"
"I don't mean to offend you guys, but I think Rogue's dress style is closer to mine than yours. Sorry."     Any interest that the two fashion addicts had in Sarah was erased at this. Eradicated.
"Yeah…I suppose…meet us back here in three hours, OK. Kitty and I will be around. Here's the money that the professor gave you Sarah, but it's ONLY to be spent on clothes. Bye."     Jean walked off, Kitty in tow, here last words intensified with false brightness. Rogue grinned at Marrow.
"Ah think we're gonna get along **_just_** fine."     Together, Rogue and Marrow made their way through the sales racks as quickly as possible, picking out the clothes that would get the MOST coverage, and still be easy to move around in. Reaching the checkout in a record hour, Marrow's new wardrobe consisted of two pairs of tight, green leggings and one pair of black ones, three green turtlenecks, four pairs of trousers from the gap, (boy, THAT burned up their credit!) two black T-shirts, a beret, and a pair of steel toed construction boots.
"Um, Sarah…what about…you know."     Sarah turned the brightest shade of red that had ever been seen in recent times on humans and mutants alike. She grabbed a package of underwear and three sports bras off the shelf.
"OK, lets go," she said in mock brightness, trying to hide the latest additions among the turtlenecks. Rogue didn't press any further, and within minutes the whole merry lot was bagged and bought.     Stepping out of the stores, Rogue groaned. 
"Ah, darn! Kitty and Jean are impossible to find in malls, and we've still got two hours. "Let's finish Christmas shopping." "Aint got no money." "Ah…you've got a point there…"     So the two walked around, and around, and around the mall, not seeing Kitty or Jean anywhere. A few kids were cueing up in front of 'Santa.'
"Oh, when I was little Irene used to take me to see these phonies. I loved it!" Putting on a little kids voice, Rogue mimicked, 'pwease, Mr. Santa, sir…I want a widdle bwack kitten for Chwistmas…'     Sarah smiled.
"I lived with the Morlocks in the sewers and subway tunnels. I didn't ever know about Santa Claus until I was old enough to leave the underground. 'Course, that was the same Christmas I learnt about over commercialization!"     Rogue laughed lightly. This girl seemed to bring out the best in her.
"Oh…look Rogue! You want money, right? Look…"     Marrow jabbed a finger towards a poster up on the tent which housed Santa.
'Elves wanted. A hundred dollars an hour! Apply within."     Rogue looked up with her arms folded, and her jaw set. 
Marrow looked up with a wicked grin on her face.     "Imagine Kitty and Jean saw us. The looks on their faces…and they thought we don't have any fashion style!"
Rogue did think. The smirks…how everyone made fun of the way she dressed…how she could show them! But, she didn't give a damn about how she appeared in front of others…EXACTLY! Why shouldn't she do it. A HUNDRED BUCKS…     "Sure, whatever."
Marrow grinned back, looking almost like a real elf. @@@~~~@@@~~~@@@~~~@@@~~~@@@~~~@@@~~~@@@~~~@@@     Minutes later, Rogue and Marrow stood in Elf costumes. They had pointy ears glued on over their normal ones, a short, green, sleeveless dress was intercepted by bright red tights. Rogue wore a pair of green gloves to match. Grinning widely, they set about their task, lifting toddlers on and off of Santa's lap. Rogue's mouth was beginning to feel as though it was about to crack. Turning briefly to stretch it, she saw the worst thing possible. Kurt and Bobby had exited the cd shop, and were now gaping at the sight which met their eyes. Elbowing Sarah hard in the side, she wordlessly pointed to Kurt and Bobby, who's position had yet to change. Grinning even wider, she waved to them, and yelled "Marry Christmas" across the mall. People stopped to stare at the two boys, and they both now being a bright shade of scarlet rushed off, probably to find Jean and Kitty.
    "That was EVIL," Rogue muttered in an undertone to Marrow.
    "I know."
Smiles now just a little wider, and slightly more genuine, they lifted little Robert onto Santa's lap.     "What would YOU like for Christmas little boy…"
    The gang left the mall in silence, Rogue and Marrow carting bags, and throwing each other glances, and then biting their own lips to forestall giggling. The car revved up, and drove back to the mansion.
    That evening…
All presents had been wrapped gaily and deposited under the tree. Everyone sat in the common room, putting last minute touches on their gifts to others, and whispered what had been bought amongst themselves. Kitty, though Jewish enjoyed Christmas as much as any of them, and joined into the caroling wholeheartedly. Rogue, Marrow and Gambit all stood in a corner, sharing a songbook, while Hank banged out "O Little Town Of Bethlehem" on the piano.     
_    O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.
    Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by.
    Yet in the dark streets shineth the everlasting light
    The hopes and fears of all the years
    Are met in thee tonight. 
_ As the students left the common room, the crackling of the fire was the only sound to be heard. A shadow tree danced on the walls, and then dwindled as the clock struck the hour. Not a mutant was stirring, in the silent house.     
Merry Christmas, and have a WONDERFUL Christmas Eve, Everybody. As a Christmas present to me, please review!!! 


	7. The underground room

Merry Christmas everyone (little late…) and a very happy New Year! (heh heh…little early.) Please enjoy the remainder of your holidays as best you can. Gee, aren't I the little ball of optimism? 

Aww, do I ***HAVE*** to do this? What's this; you say I could get SUED if I don't? OK…I give in…I DO *NOT* own the x-men. Happy?

**__**

Chapter 7 

Christmas had come and gone in a flurry of brightly wrapped paper and ribbon. Rogue had helped Sarah pick out things that everyone would like, and like them they did. It was uncanny how well these people knew each other, how attached they were to every last member. Kitty had *loved* the pink scarf, the Professor wouldn't stop reading the book on psychology, Kurt had given _her_ a *hug* for the three fingered gloves that she had asked Jean to help her make. The reactions were similar from the whole group: each person loved his/her gift. Marrow had received gifts from others as well, including a heavy metal CD, which Logan had grimaced at the sight of. No-one could really blame him, and were planning on giving Bobby a hard time of it when Marrow wasn't around. 

Today, for the first time since the morlock massacre, she was FEELING. She could feel the warmth in the mansion, and she knew that at last, she had found the Christmas comfort that had been so lacking in oftentimes for her before.

But I can't forget. Not now. Can never forget them.

There was a knock at the door

" 'S open." 

The whole motley crew rushed in, Kitty and Kurt immediately jumping on the bed. Her nerves gave a warning grind, before her brain reminded her that it was Christmas. 

"Merry Christmas, Marrow!" the gang chorused. 

Scott stood a little back from everyone, clearly not happy with this idea. She had yet to prove her loyalty in his eyes. She made a point of ignoring him while looking up at the rest with gratitude in her eyes. 

"Thanks…"

This seemed to be enough for the remainder of the gang, who nodded, split their faces in wide grins, and filed out. Scott remained behind for a few seconds, before saying gruffly,

"Merry Christmas," making it obvious whether he wanted to or not that his heart wasn't in it. 

"Yeah," she replied to his fast-vanishing back before the door creaked shut.

It was then that she made up her mind. She needed to go home, if only for an hour. God, how she missed it there, the smell of the sewers, the thrill of 'borrowing ' a garbage sweeper train to get errands done. 

They won't miss me. she thought with absolute certainty. I'll leave a note, just in case one of 'em gets in here and realizes that I'm not here.

Scrawling a note on a receipt that lay abandoned on her dresser, she pulled on the old clothes that she had arrived in, the ones that she had insisted that professor Xavier not throw away. "Emotional value," she had stated bluntly. 

Slipping through the hallways and into the main entrance, she had almost made it to the front door, when…

"Hey kid. Where you goin'?" he said, not a question, just a statement that he knew she was out of bed when she shouldn't be. 

"Out."

"Don't ya be gettin' short with me, darlin'. It's up ta me ta decide whether or not yer grounded fer life."

"To the sewers," she remarked in an offhand tone, enjoying the effect that these words were having on him. The mighty Wolverine was getting a twitch by his mouth, thinking hard.

"The…sewers?"

"Yeah, it's where I lived before here, REMEMBER?"

"How long were ya with the morlocks?"

"From when I was orphaned until the massacre."

For the first time, Marrow saw Logan show some feeling. 

"Off ya go…but be back before breakfast…or Chuck'll have my bones in his bread. Very metallic bread, that."

Marrow flashed a grin behind her, before sprinting off into the dark between the trees.

"Good**_night _**Logan," said Charles Xavier, wheeling out of the kitchen carrying a glass of water. 

**_    Marrow's POV
_** I went down the manhole outside of the old cinema: the one that closed down in 1999 and no one bothered to rebuild. The sewer smell rose to meet me like an old friend, and a welcome one at that. Looking around, I knew EXACTLY where I was. After all, another half mile, and I was back to where I started out. In the beginning, that is. Suddenly, everything opened up into a huge open area, the ground covered in green grass, and the moon shining in through skylights in the huge ceiling. On the ground…were the graves. I inhaled sharply. Where had this come from? Who had DONE this? I'd never been back to the morlock hideout since the massacre, and if I thought about this, it became apparent that this…place…this place might not be so new. Sitting on my heels, rocking back and forth, I just let the tears flow, tracing hot, fiery paths over my cheekbones and stopping at my mouth, making me taste their salty substance. I didn't care, just let my entire body by silent sobs. It felt so GOOD, to let your emotions out, but I was not to dwell on this at that very moment. My heart was aching, and I just wanted to be down in a grave like the rest of them. My bone growth was beginning again to be painful and uncontrollable in any way. Just like it always was. Probably always will be. The blood leaked out of my temple, joining the tears in my mouth, a strangely comforting sensation. There was a metallic taste to the blood, and I sipped it greedily, wanting my death. Willing my death. I could almost see my skeleton, surrounded by a pile of excess bones. I giggled uncontrollably at the thought, imagining my decaying skull grinning back at me from this same spot twenty years from now, which of course just made me laugh harder. I knew death would come soon, loosing this much blood was impossible. I was fighting my healing factor, denying it access to the damaged area.     "Hey, stop that petite!"
It was the Cajun. How he found me…but I'll be…wonderful blanketing darkness…swimming light…then darkness once more. A dull pain was being emitted from the area of my face, just enough to be mildly annoying. A buzz of a bee, or a fly that won't go away. Standing up to swat it, the wonderful blackness where my mind could be void of all feelings and pain vanished, to be replaced with a pair of narrowed red-on-black eyes. The dry blood was cracking and peeling on my face, causing it to feel tight and stiff. "So, de petite be wanting to join de world again? How trés amusante, non?"     "Look…I…"
"Petite went a little crazy…eh?" "Yes. A little." Gambit gave a remorseful glance around the room, before turning back to Marrow, feigned happiness plastered across every feature. "Let's go home."     "Yeah."
Merde! This is all my fault…     "Gambit?"
He put on a brave face, trying to look upright, though in truth only a few years older than her,     "Oui?"
"Don't tell the professor?"     "Oui."
    Sorry, my computer has this weird habit of messing up the formatting of an HTML document. I apologise…
RRREEEVVVIIIEEEWWW!!! 


	8. A fresh start

I'm going to Turkey for the next five days, and therefore will be unable to update between now and then. I will once again thank any and all reviewers for the time that you have taken. Rest assured that I appreciate it.

I am making no money off of this fic, and own none of the characters held within. The theory of evolution belongs exclusively to Charles Darwin. Thank you.

**__**

Chapter 8

Marrow's healing factor had taken care of the scabs. The blood had peeled from her skin after a shower, the steam and soap removing the uncleanness, and the self destructive feelings that she had been feeling only hours before. Gambit had walked her as far as the front door of the mansion, before heading off into the darkness again. Marrow had watched his back, until the darkness claimed his shadowy form, as a demon in the night. 

A slight fatigue wore at her eyes, trying to pull them shut into a world without light and images. A world where no thought was required. Yet, in Marrow's case, it did not have to be required to be real. Her nights were haunted by screams from her past, gunshots and crimson water. These demons flit around her mind, staying in the recesses, and just waiting for an opportunity to wreak havoc on the 'sane' mind. 

I'm too tired to do anything tonight. I think I'll brave it…

Carrying her sore, aching feet up the stairs and to her room, (which not surprisingly had no roommate) she slipped underneath the white sheets. Unwilling to leave the back of her neck exposed, she put the pillow over her head. (This also helps in morning situations when Evan's radio clock set to the all rap station went off.)

After turning over and over for numerous minutes, she was finally able to doze off into a restless slumber.

__

"Why are you green?"

"The same reason tha' y'all have bones growin' out o' your nose, hon. I'm a mutant."

"Are they mutants too?"

"We all are."

Sweat was starting to bead on Marrow's forehead, her tension at the sound of such a familiar voice becoming quite evident.

__

Fire…so much fire…oh God, we're gonna die this time. Why…does life have to BE? Blood covering the ceilings and floors…all their glassy dead eyes!

"Hey, there's a mutie still alive over here! The only good mutie is a dead mutie! Die, die in the name of the Marauders!"

"_But…I never did anything…"_

"Please…YOU WERE BORN. That, however will be *easy* to correct."

Run…through smoke, flames…blood, charred flesh…

Strong arms lifted her up, out of the tunnels, and away from the smell of bile and blood. Fighting, the minute her feet touched the ground she ran, ran out to begin her life in the alleyways. To be away from the screams which pierced the night like a knife. The blood that flowed like crimson water. Flowed from those people that she knew, her family, no more.

Sitting up in bed, Sarah gave a muffled gasp of horror. The sun was up, and glancing over at the faintly glowing red numerals on her clock, saw that it was already nine 'o clock. 

"Aw, man!"

Looking at her bed, she could see that she had impaled her mattress several times over with long, off-white ridges, which were now buried deep in the bedding.

Avoiding these wicked looking spikes, she catapulted out of bed, pulled on her uniform, (there was no doubt that it was going to be a training day) and set off at a run down the stairs. 

_Hiding from your fears…_

The whole gang caught her in the common room.

"Happy New Years Day!!!!"

"…New Years?"

Kurt jumped up to her, and teleported into a huge pile of snow in the backyard, much to Marrow's dismay, carrying her along for the ride. 

"Elf…"

Unfortunately for her, she spoiled the seriousness of the moment by bursting into a fit of giggles. 'Elf' got a snowball in the face.

"Ja…so we've finally broken through her caramel, and reached the chocolate, hmmm?"

Without waiting another second, there were snowballs flying left and right, more as teammates came out to join them.

Bobby held a certain prowess this: hey the guy can create his own snowballs. He proposed a game of he and Rahne against the rest of the team, as the odds were so VERY unfair for everyone else if he continued to play as an individual. 

"DIE!" Bobby yelled, while icing up. Rahne transformed into her wolf, Kitty went intangible, (hey, can't get hit that way, eh?) and the rest just ducked. Kurt, his wide feet making him nimble on the snow was a valuable asset, taking a certain delight in hitting Rahne squarely between the eyes, or on the nose, making her transform back to human form to expel the coldness from her body. Bobby was by far the best. He fairly disappeared into the snow in his iced form, and whenever anyone got near him, they would by pelted by a flurry of snowflakes, from seemingly nowhere.

The game continued until the shadows were lengthening, and the sun was a orange sphere in the sky. The x-men started to head inside.

"Boy, can you believe that these are the last few hours of 2001?"

"Yeah…I just got used to writing it instead of 2000 on my school assignments."

"So, are you guys making any New Years resolutions?"

"I thought I'd give up meat…"

"Kitty, you're SUPPOSED to give up something you LIKE."

"Danger room sessions. Think the professor would buy that?"

"Yeah, I can see I now. 'Professor, Mr. Logan, I can't do Danger room sessions any more, 'cause see, it was just New Year and…"

"SHUT UP."

"Porcupine."

"Bonehead."

The bickering continued all the way to the front door of the mansion, where Ororo met them with towels, and drinks on a plate. 

"Hey, thanks Auntie O!"

"Yeah, thanks stormy…"

The mansion was warm and comforting to Marrow that night, and she shouted just as loud as everyone, when the time came for the 'three, two one, Happy New Year!' She was finding her place in society with the x-men, was finding a family. She knew this now, and no matter what horrors her past had held, this was a new beginning. A fresh start.

Sorry was so short, but 'tis late at night, and I want to go to bed. *sniff* Happy New Year in advance, as I won't get to say it later. Have fun! Oh, and PLEASE R&R!!!!!!!


	9. Mentally blind

Hey everyone who might possibly be still reading this. No, cyberspace did not devour me, nor was my body ravaged by angry x-men who wished my death for writing this fic. 

My muse ran off with another. I was away. From the Internet. Case closed. Ahem. SCHOOL!!!!!! 

I DO NOT OWN THE X-MEN. (Yeah, they all belong to my cats…I am merely their keeper…)

**__**

Chapter 9

Now that school was starting, at least Sarah had something with which to occupy her mind. Her thoughts could, for the meager six hours that she was in the house of learning, relinquish their grip that they had on the dark gravestone-filled room. SOMEONE still knew about the morlocks and mourned their death…for SOMEONE had taken the time to bury each body and write an epitaph. For that reason alone, there had to be someone still alive who had known the morlocks, and still mourned their deaths: and Marrow WOULD find them. 

Dragging her attention up from the literature book that she held in her hand, she counted the seconds until the class would end. No homework had been assigned as of yet.

Three…

Two…

One…

"Please write in your agendas that chapters nine through seventeen need to be read by first block Monday."

Cursing inwardly, Sarah rose from her seat, and judging by the looks on her fellow x-men's faces, they were none to happy about the assignment either. It being a Friday, there was absolutely NO WAY that Logan was going to let any of them out of the Danger Room until late on Sunday night. But hey, it was last block. Marrow could relish her last hour of school-time freedom before returning home to the mansion to rip tendons. 

Humming dejectedly, she walked down the hall to math class, a fresh set of books clutched against her chest. The hallways were buzzing with people: normal people, who didn't worry about being ripped to shreds by a stray laser beam later that same evening. People who had only to worry about doing their homework, and possibly baby-sitting to raise enough money to buy that new c-d. Humans. 

Now walking with a definite stride of depression, she flung wide the math class door, and picked her mask of false cheeriness out of the bag. No-one saw through it. No-one ever did.

Gambit was worried. Sarah looked pleasant and easy going enough right now, but he could not forget the pained look on her face as she had looked up at him that night, her hands and clothes stained with her own blood. The whole memory was crimson, absolutely painted with the thick liquid. Every detail from that horrible moment was vivid in Remy's mind, the way that the moon had shone through the window and struck her face, splitting it into two visible personalities: the light and the dark. The way that the moon had shone through that window and struck the granite headstones that he came down every week to mourn over. The headstones that he himself had erected. 

Sarah stared at the figures that were appearing on the board in a sullen silence. They were indefinitely going to have homework on this material, so paying attention would be most helpful. 

The teacher walked around handing out a worksheet, and no words were needed to say that this was to be completed by next block. One glance made Sarah stuff it in her bag, in hopes that somehow the material that she had supposedly absorbed would resurface somewhere between now and Monday in the form of the answers to this sheet. 

"Hey…Sarah," yelled Rogue from across the hall, motioning at her. She took into account that Gambit was also waiting for her, arms crossed as if he had something on his mind.

Sarah knew better than to ask.

"Hey Gumbo. 's tha matta with y'all today. Y'all are bein' a total space case!"

Gambit smiled, seeming to shake off his disturbing worried face, and replacing it with one of feigned cheerfulness. Only Marrow could tell that it was fake, but she didn't say a word. If there was anything that she could understand, it was a problem. (a/n …You could say that about most of us fanfic writers, eh?)

Ignoring Rogue's comment, Remy greeted Sarah with cheerfulness woven expertly into his voice.

Maybe it's not a façade…maybe he REALLY likes me…

"Chere? Gambit say does de pinhead want to go back to de mansion?" 

Sarah's lips twisted into a faint smile, and she looked up at Gambit, her head reprimanding her for even THINKING that way. No-one could ever love her: she was merely a freak. A mutant: not worthy enough to walk on the same filth and dirt as the normals.

"Yep. Let's go bust some serious butt with Logan."

Rogue laughed in a most un-Roguelike way, not suited to her usual character at all. For people who actually KNEW Sarah, not just were acquainted, she most indefinitely brought out the best in them.

**__**

Marrow's POV (a/n: sorry! The story has to get written SOMEHOW…)

I had the dream again tonight. The screams…shadows of screams…the echoing, reaching the furthest reaches of my mind. The subway PAINTED with blood, like a sick artist gone crazy. The telepaths in the house all went crazy:

"How long have you been having this dream?" so on, and so forth. Jean and the professor spent the rest of the night analyzing the hell out of this situation. Finally, they came to the conclusion, that it was triggered by something from my past. Hellooooooo…Mr. And Ms. Obvious stiiiirrrriike! Not to say I wasn't grateful, mind you…just not in an…'open' sort of way. The professor is trying to find out exactly WHAT happened that night. Who led the butchers down into the tunnels to kill my people. I say when they find the sick bastard, I carve his organs out in alphabetical order. 

**__**

Gambit's POV:

Gambit hate what he done to her. What he reduce her to. Sarah; de don't-mess-with-me-or-get-your-ass-whooped independent femme. Wit'out de independence. Gambit jus' need to find a way to let her know…what happen down in those tunnels…she was jus' a little girl…she can't 've known…or seen…

A/n: that's where I have to leave it for now, 'cause any more, and the next chapter wouldn't have any purpose. Gee: don't you HATE when that happens? *sobs* Sees muse attempting a getaway. 

"Oh, no you don't!"

Okee…I'm going crazy. Please review the NICE crazy person…she needs at least thirty to continue.


	10. Heartstrings twisted

Aw…man…I'm REALLY sorry about the length of the last chapter…I'll make it up to my few remaining readers…I promise! Please…don't leave me here alone…*sob*…man comes up and slaps Nightfan **hard** across the face. "Ms Fan? You're doing it again…" Ahem. Pay no attention at all to the little human behind the curtain…for I am the wizard of…aw, whatever. 

Disclaimer: *shows readers her reflection* 'see? This is ME.' *holds up picture of Stan Lee* 'THIS is the owner of the x-men.' Shoves picture back under pillow. "BUT THEY WILL ALL BE MINE!!!"

**_Chapter 10_**

"…And this is Trish reporting LIVE for New England news. Professor Charles Xavier is launching an investigation to benefit survivors of the so called 'morlock massacre,' where over 3000 people were murdered in cold blood. It has been said that those killed were from a band of renegade mutants who were hiding underground from the wrath of mankind, but these rumors remain unconfirmed. In fact, there is a dreadful lack of knowledge concerning events circling…FZZZT"

***snikt***

"Aw…Mr. Logan…why'd you do that?"

"Because, kiddo, there are some things that you're better off NOT knowing."

"…Like…"

"*giggle* Like, algebra!"

"English!"

"Ja…I'll second that!"

Logan looked at the teens in disgust, wondering if it was even possible to have such a short term memory and attention span. Leaving them rolling on the carpet in front of the television that was sliced in three neat, sparking pieces, he went to find the professor. 

"Oh…By the Bright Lady…Logan…you gave me quite a turn!" (a/n Yup, to see an angry Wolverine storming around a corner, claws unsheathed would give me a fright too.)

" Have ya seen Chuck, 'Ro?" With yet another sound of metal tearing through flesh, Ororo was dubiously eyeing a perfectly normal knuckle. Reassured, she replied,

"Yes…yes, of course. He went into his study…he took Gambit with him. I believe that it was about…the incident."

"Yeah 'Ro? Well, that 'incident' is just what I need to talk to the professor about. What was he thinking…"

"I BELIEVE, Logan, that he was thinking of the child, which is more than I can say for you."

"Stormy? YOU NEED TO GET YOUR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT!! One kid…all that's in trouble is ONE KID. We have a mansion full o' teenage mutants…n' Chuck's actions could expose us all. And fer what? The three of us KNOW what happened that night…why can't we jus' tell the wench?"

"Logan. All I will say on the matter is this: is it Charles and Me who need to get our priorities straight…or you. Think about it Logan…think long and hard."

Mouth agape, Logan stared at Ororo's retreating back with unease. 

It's all that kids fault. he thought, savagely. Why'd she have to show up in the first place?

His thoughts were interrupted by Marrow walking by, her swaggering stride almost SPEAKING to him, saying *take a shot…if you dare.* Logan might just have done that, had it not been for the look on her face: she had evidently not seen him at all…and not seeing the Wolverine was a first class offense in his mind. 

**_Marrow's POV _**(a/n once again, the story has to get written SOMEHOW. Prepare for extreme angst.)

Must their faces haunt my mind's eye forever? Their screams tug at my heartstrings day by day, but why? Is some spirit trying to show me what happened, or is it just my guilt? Guilt over WHAT? Oh…too many questions. I vow that the person who put me and my morlocks through this pain…the day that I find that person, shall be his last. He will finally feel the pain that he brought to us all, the survivors and the perished alike. 

I feel another wave of pain washing over my body. I am used to pain…both mental, and physical. I have to live with it. Ah…it's another fibula bone…the hardest one in the body to pull. The end poking through the skin seems, in a very sick way vaguely tantalizing…like a strange and warped treat from the mind of Lewis Carol. I give a smile worthy of the Cheshire Cat, for this is my world. What do humans do to escape from their worlds of pain and misery? They cut. What do I do? I…pull. Yes, I pull. Probably causes more damage to the internal organs than a razor. 

Feeling the tenderness of the skin around the bone, I enjoy the moments that I spend teasing the flesh, before pulling it out slowly to revel in the pain. I put the wound to my mouth, tasting the copper-like blood on my lips: a grotesque lipstick. This is not the treat, though. That is nothing…forgotten in a second. The uniqueness of the moment all comes from the bone. That part of me, dragged out into the open. 

I run my hands over the surface, giving it an estimate.

"Yeah…sanding the edges would sharpen it…but weaken it. Hmm…what to do? Oh…if we cut layers of, we'll keep the density, and make it sharp enough for a good weapon…"

A rustle from the shadows by the door, caused me to jump up from my position, immediately falling into a fighting stance. 

"Tough as nails, eh?"

"Ah, it's the Canadian. How long've you been there?"

"Long enough, darlin'. Just Long enough to see how sick you are. Your mind twists so far…it's painful to look at."

"Then don't look."

"Some things, ya just can't look past."

"Don't look past. Look right through me…that's what everyone else does. I know you can't take me. I'm not one of your perfect looking students, am I? Even Kurt 's absolutely FINE, 'cause he's got his charm, but me? No. Look here, you superficial bastard, I've seen more death than you have in your whole life. But I bet you haven't actually SEEN death, have you? You've just killed."

"You've got some nerve…"

"Yes…isn't that the problem? I ACTUALLY HAVE A PERSONALITY! Unlike most others in this God-forsaken house…"

"Yer doin' a pretty good job of provoking me, gal, and once provoked, I don't back down."

I could almost smell the tension in the room, and I'd make a bet that he COULD. I wouldn't give him any satisfaction. I opened my mouth to come back, a wonderfully prepared quip in mind, when the sound of a throat being cleared resounded through the tense air. It was the one that they called 'Storm.'

"Sarah…"

My head snapped around at use of the name that they called me down in the tunnels. I felt a seething rage threatening to burst through my chest…but then, it all evaporated. I was sick of fighting. Sick of life. The old man could kill me if he wanted to: at least I wouldn't have to wag tongues at him any more. My conscience would finally be silenced, as my minds eye would be. All spark of life taken from me, sucked out by this household, I looked up at the white-haired lady who stood mouth agape waiting to finish her sentence; what she had started. 

"…Sarah, the professor would like a word with you, if you'll wait until he finishes with Gambit."

Mutely, I nodded. At the time, I felt as though there was nothing else that I could do, nothing could help. At that moment, I was living a death.

The moment I left the room, I could hear Ororo yelling at Logan. Not like her at all; 

maybe all I can DO is cause problems.

"…Professor, I helped take dat gal's life and family away, and Gambit do anyt'ing he can to help give it back to her."

What's this?

"Gambit, you must understand that she has a HUGE violent potential. To expose yourself…to HER at least…as the…as one of the…"

"Gambit be one of de murderers involved in de morlock massacre. Whether he kill or no doesn't matter."

My body was going into a state of shock. This just wasn't possible…

"It won't matter to her Gambit. Not to her. As far as she's concerned now, you are one of the few people who have shown her kindness. Whether or not it was an act, neither she, nor I shall ever know, but that is not the point. The point HERE, Remy, is to stay alive. This may sound ridiculous to you now, but believe me…it's anything but that."

"No…Remy knows danger, sir. All dat's important to him now, is dat he help Sarah. She hurt herself dat night professor, hurt herself real bad. For all we know, she could do it again. Mebbe kill herself, and den…I really would have blood on my hands. More than I already do."

"Remy, you said yourself that you did no killing."

"Non. Gambit jus' lead de Marauders down into de tunnels to butcher de morlocks. If it hadn't been for him…Sarah would be wit' her friends in de tunnels...."

"…Starving. Now Remy, no-one can excuse what you did. I am not going to argue that point…but…you did in a way compensate…"

I closed my ears. No more did I want to hear: no more talk of this…this THING. God… that's all my life is… a THING … that no one wants to deal with. Not  even me. 

PLEASE R&R! I REALLY WANT TO READ THEM…


	11. Anger unresolved

Hello… I am returning once more to the pages of fanficdom. 

Look. When I cough up the deed that entitles me to be writing this stuff… I'll finally feel safe, and not have to worry about getting sued by Marvel. Until that day, I will have to remain an insecure fanfiction writer, begging the readers, (and any marvel staff who might be reading this) to refrain from turning me in, THANKS. (Unless you have decided to sue me, in which case, *sticks tongue out* THERE!)

**_Chapter 11_**

**__**

Gambit stormed out of Professor Xavier's office, his red eyes glowing bright in the darkened hall. All of his scruples were screaming at him to go and find Sarah right now: tell her the truth.  Tell her the truth about how HE had been the reason for which she had to live through hell as a child: had to witness the creation of hell on earth. He was the reason for which she was a hardened, seemingly uncaring, emotionless living creature…  she had already seen so much… and at her age, Gambit was not sure that it was entirely healthy for her mental state.

Sarah watched him be swallowed up swiftly by the shadows at the end of the hall, her mind in a solid state of numbness. 

I didn't hear… that can't be… not… possible…

Years ago as a child, Sarah had learned that there were other ways to vent sadness than through the salty tears that fell swift for most others. Sarah had learned that anger could deal with anything. Besides, the adrenaline rush that you got in the midst of your fury was far more bearable than the tired heartache that came from weeping. You might say that Sarah was addicted to the adrenaline, the way that some athletes become addicted. She needed her fury, and after going through life harboring wrath close to her heart, this fury was becoming entwined within her… becoming a part of her soul, no matter how much all of her other senses protested and screamed out against it. 

Ororo walked up behind, her bare feet making no sound on the luxurious plush carpeting of the mansion. Knowing better, at this point in her relation ship with Sarah, to touch her while she was quite obviously musing over one thing or another, when Ororo spoke, it was in a voice no louder than the mew of a kitten.

Nevertheless, it still managed to make Marrow's head whip up, and shift her weight ever so slightly into a fighting position. 

"Oh… Ms. Monroe… sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I said the professor will see you now, Sarah."

With a nod, Sarah mutely pushed the heavy oak door forward, creaking on its hinges. Of course there was no need to knock… not in this part of the house. 

Actually, no one knocks in this house at all.

            "Professor… you sent for me?"

Steepling his fingers underneath his chin, the professor regarded Marrow carefully, obviously deep in thought. 

            "Your incident with the mauruders when you were a child caused you a great deal of pain?"

"Rhetorical question."

            "And this pain… you would obviously wish to kill the people…. Or person… who inflicted it."

Marrow looked into the professor's blue, probing eyes for a few seconds while she gathered her thoughts. When she spoke, her voice was low, and dangerous, so quiet that you would have had to strain your ears to hear her in an empty classroom.

"No. I would not kill him. I would scar him slowly… scar his mind so deeply that the only sane thoughts that he would have would be of killing himself, because that would be the only escape. I would then proceed to scar his body… very slowly, years and years this could take. When he is at death's door, and the happiest that he has ever been since meeting me, I would CARVE OUT HIS ORGANS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER!" 

Professor Xavier regarded the young girl sitting before him. Her pale face had become flushed with passion, her eyes were flashing in anger. The tendons in her neck stood out like cords, skin stretched so tight that you could see the vertebrae poking through the back of her t-shirt, which had a "Spear Britney" motif on it. 

            "Marrow. Listen carefully to what I have to say now, for it is the key to your staying here at the mansion. No more shall I hear of your violent tendencies: towards yourself, or towards others. If you decide to openly practice these… habits… I will classify you as a danger to the cause, and will have no other choice than to turn you back out onto the streets. Do you understand what I am saying?"

            "I'm not stupid. Of course I understand… you do not want any MORE blood on your hands… do you? No more… the blood of the morlocks already weighs far too heavily on your household… and all of your formerly clean, sparkling consciences."

            "…"

"Yes PROFESSOR. The dirty sewer rat knows all about you… but do your students? Ah… I can tell they don't. If they knew… I might actually have a few **_more FAKE friendships… instead of the one that you send your top murdering thief, and life sucking gothic wench out to try to build. Toss me out? Yeah. That'll solve the problem. Toss me out on my ass… wipe my mind, and then send a hit man."_**

The sound of the professor's study door slamming echoed throughout the quiet mansion. Had Marrow been seeing any color other than red, or hearing any sound other than the mixed pounding of adrenaline and blood in her ears, she might have noticed that it was far TOO quiet for a mansion filled with adolescents. Had her fury not struck her dumb, she might have cried out after the heavy object hit her upside the head, knocking her unconscious. Had the rest of the x-men been in the mansion at that time, they might have heard the thump as Marrow hit the floor, only to be spirited away in a rush of wind. 

***

I know that it was awfully short for the amount of time that you had to wait… but hopefully, my muse will come up with some way to add length to upcoming chapters. REVIEW…. REVIEW… REVIEW!! It's a two minute process folks…


	12. Discovery

Anyone who can find it in their hearts to forgive me for not putting a chapter up in a long time please read on. There is really no excuse, other than school, and laziness, although writers black may explain about a month of that…

Disclaimer: *pulls up shirt sleeve. See tattooed there:* Any and all characters in this story exclusively belong to marvel comics. I own none of them. Aw, look. "I love mum…" 

On with the show:

**__**

**_Chapter 12_**

_Red eyes glared out of the darkness in Marrow's dream… the red eyes which had haunted her forever without her being fully conscious of them. They matched the redness of the fire which was currently searing the flesh of her family. Heat brought blisters bubbling to the surface of her skin, large rings of them around the bones which erupted from deep within her. These bones were black as pitch, charred to a useless coal. Callisto stood in front of the little girl, surveying in sadness the horror… right before a marauder impaled her on a bayonet. _

_"No… nononono…"_

_Red eyes attached to strong arms… Ahhh… not him… it can't be… friend… NO!_

"Wake up, mutant of Xavier. You are needed." A deep voice intoned, the words burning into Sarah's dream world with the force of a giant blow. It jolted her awake, as if she had been electrocuted. 

He smiled contemptuously. 

"Good morning wench."

"What the f…"

"That is enough. You will not speak to me, disgusting genetic defect."

Marrow spat full in his face, while the sentry raised an outraged hand to strike her.  

The blow struck hard. 

Of course, Marrow would not show pain. Besides, how in the world could THAT have been any worse than pulling out her femur? 

Raising her chin in a way that rivaled the sentry's own contempt for her, she jutted her jaw, although her blood flowed freely  down her face from many anonymous wounds. He struck her again, and again, trying to purge the information that he needed from her. Her eyes assumed a glass-like quality, like the safety eyes that one might find on stuffed toys for very small children, as she made believe that she did not even hear him. Bruises snuck up along her cheekbones, one eye turned a dangerous purple and began to swell shut, while blood flowed freely from a dozen different cuts and gashes, which were arranged quite artfully over her face neck and chest. No matter. They always heal. 

"Screw this." He picked up a two way radio. 

"The mutie whore is refusing to talk. Requesting permission to return to marauder base. Over."

"Roger that, sentry. Permission granted. Over."

  Marrow's mouth dropped open, and the sentry grinned a cold, hard grin. Marrow thought aimlessly, while trying to control her jaw, that grin would be worthy of the devil himself. 

"So, you've heard of the marauders, have you, girl?"

He laughed grimly before turning and heading for an exit that was dimly visible through the dimness of the small room in which she was being kept. 

The door was thrown open, and Marrow's pupils dilated painfully, and just as slowly as they had adjusted to the newfound light in the room, was she forced to make yet another change, as the light was snatched away in a whirlwind of movement. 

Back at the mansion:

Two pairs of glowing eyes, red and gold pierced the dark of the rec. room, along with the many normal ones. The only light came from the TV, to which everyone's eyes belonged. Pale light illuminated faces, and caused strange, moving shadows to circle and dance around the area. 

{Shunk}

"Like, oh my God!" 

Kitty was suddenly clasping a blue furry hand in fright, as badly-portrayed fake blood poured inside the small electronic universe. Kurt just smiled. 

Although Gambit's eyes did belong to the silver screen, his mind was anywhere but. Sarah's hateful words filled his mind with shame, self-hatred, and the guilt which had been haunting him for all of these many years tore at his heartstrings. Had Remy not been taught from an early age not to show emotion, he would have buried his face within his arms, and wept for all that he was worth. Which right now, he decided, was not much.

Clearing the haze which clouded his senses, (and also enabled him to think whilst men with axes ran around killing people within the box in front of him) Remy rose heavily from his seat, and walked out of the door, tails of his trench coat flapping loosely behind him. Rogue glanced after him, and then on an after thought stood up and ran after him. 

"Remy, where y'all goin'?"

"Remy goin' to find Sarah, chere. He need to talk wid' her."

"Can ah come."

Silence swirled palpably between the two for a moment, before Remy reached out and grasped her gloved hand. Rogue drew back on instinct, but Remy held on, desperate for someone to talk to.

"Chere…  listen. Promise not to breathe a word of dis to anyone else."

"Remy…"

"PROMISE."

"Fine—if  it means so much to ya… what?"

"Remy hurt Sarah bad chere."

This time Rogue really did draw back.

"What?"

"Remy kill her family.  Dat was de only family she had ever known… and Remy destroy dat for a price. He destroy so many lives, chere…. So much blood on his hands.  Sarah is a mental mess because of Remy, and he ain't ever going to forget dat."

"You… killed…"

"It was Gambit who led de marauders down into the tunnels where de morlocks lived. He din' know dat de marauders were gonna KILL the morlocks when he consented to be their guide, but dats's no break for his conscience. He as good as killed them chere, and he gonna do anything to make it right."

Assemble the x-men. Marrow's missing. 

**********

Please stay tuned for the next installment, coming next week! Please reward my muse for blasting away that nasty writer's black by reviewing me! Please… 


	13. Guilt, worry, and a wee bit of torture

Sorry, I know this has been over a week, but homework caught up with me, in addition to another story which has been bothering me for months now needed to be started before my brain imploded from the stress of holding it back. Well, I'm here now, with profound apologies galore. Just take one from the pile by my bed…

Disclaimer:

I don't own the x-men in any shape, form, or size. Little z-men, big X-men… all belong to good 'ol marvel comics, ya gotta love 'em. 

**Chapter 13**

Worry and guilt combined make a powerful force. They combine to create the worst kind of fear: the kind of fear which seeps through the hard, tough exterior of any one being, and makes a hole within. This black hole is as dangerous as any cancer or terminal disease, as it eats at you from the inside. 

            Two people currently seated inside the X-men's infamous war room had a black hole inside. Gambit, who had been suffering from this for years was more used to the dull ache of guilt. He thought that he probably could have prevented this from coming about if only… if only…

 The second member of the Guilt-worry club was more new to the excruciating feeling. 

Evan Daniels. 'The Spyke,' his only claim to fame being that he incessantly argued with Quicksilver. The Spyke was learning of the pain that people had to deal with in the real world. The newness of the pain was acute, and he thought that he would rather take a bullet than go on feeling it. He probably could have prevented this from coming about if only…if only…

            A dozen different thoughts were sucked away in a whirlwind of movement up towards the front of the room as Xavier and Storm entered, Storm's usual serene air sending forth hot blasts of worry and confusion, while Xavier looked calm and collected on the outside, inside his feelings mirrored Storm's face. Why did THEY want her? Hadn't enough emotional damage been done to last one girl a lifetime… and now, this?  It befuddled the mind, is what it did. 

            "Students. One of our own is missing, but at the hands of extremely dangerous…"

            "We can take 'em Prof. We'll get 'em." 

Numerous voices joined in, until the noise became so loud, Logan had to unsheathe his claws, at which point everyone got flustered and made a point of covering their mouths with one hand, or drawing their knees up to their faces. 

            "…As previously stated, extremely dangerous peoples. Perhaps some of you have hears of the mutant-racist group that call themselves the 'Marauders?'" Xavier said this totally nonchalant, not giving away that indeed, someone might have heard of the Marauders. Not giving away the fact that one of them had helped the Marauders scramble over broken pipes, and the sludge of the sewers for a petty reward. Not giving away that Gambit was a collaborator against Marrow. 

            "Please will Scott, Gambit, Jean, Kurt, Kitty, Rogue and Storm report to the Blackbird. New mutants, follow Logan to the Danger Room for today's session. Oh, Gambit, Scott, may I see you two for just a minute? Thank you."

            While a resounding 'awww…' went up from the cluster in which the new mutants stood, Gambit's eyes flashed red for just a second, his hatred of being singled out come to life once more, while Scott stood up and walked over to the Professor wonderingly. 

            "Ah, yes. Scott, I want you to stand down as team leader for this particular mission. Gambit here," he gestured to his left, "will be temporarily taking your place. This is only temporary, and so there is no need to worry, Scott." 

Scott nodded mutely, and walked back to inform the rest of the team of this disgrace. Gambit, ever silent waited, sensing the Professor's need to talk to him in private. Rogue's eyes bored into his back like twin laser beams, as if the shoulder blades could communicate to her what was being said between the two profiles. 

            "Gambit. I suppose you are wondering why I appointed you this position."

            "No. Gambit have more experience, right? Dis is what it's about, oui?"

The professor sat in silence for several moments, just watching Gambit's face. 

            "You can go now, Gambit."

            "Merci, Professor Xavier."

            With a low rumble, the x-jet took off, a silhouette in the setting sun. 

            A mouth leered out of the darkness at Marrow, its teeth yellow, almost luminous. Flecks of spittle flew from it as it moved to form words, striking marrow like a thousand tiny bullets.  

            "Enough games. You will tell us of Xavier's plans, or suffer the torture that a thousand mutants could not withstand."

            "Guess I must be pretty strong then."

            "You would choose to die slowly, then, wench. Die an unceremonious death, screaming, and begging for mercy?"

            "I would not choose to die, bastard. I will not die. I will NOT die," she repeated it, partly to try and convince herself that she was going to survive this, that the X-men would burst in any second, and Spyke would snatch her from their arms, call her a bonehead, and everything would be good. Except, it wouldn't be… because that demonic monstrosity would be there… that devil child who killed her family. Marrow would live for one reason, then. To get revenge. 

            "Mutant. You have chosen poorly, and expect the consequences to be worse than the choice itself. Prepare your body for pain, you hell bitch. Prepare for death."

            "You've said that twice, now, and I have yet to see it."

He sneered again, knowing in complete self assurance that when she did see 'it,' the time would come far too soon.

            With a backwards gesture, a table was brought in. Marrow was lifted carefully onto it, making sure to avoid any outlying bones, and also making sure to dump her in the way that would cause anyone with a human anatomy the most pain. Her back was pressed flat against the surgical table, her legs doubled beneath her body, hands tied behind her head.

            "Is that all you've got?"

Smiles were exchanged among the knife-bearing people, and Marrow had a terrible sinking feeling that her interrogator was right, she was going to die.

The torture commenced.  


	14. Perchance

Hi, guys. I know I've been gone a long time… way too long. I've been having a little bit of trouble… we moved, (Lebanon is no longer the safest place for Americans) my Grandmother is really sick, and though I wanted to work some more on this story, every time I sat down, everything would just escape me. Here she goes again… lets hope I can do better this time. 

**Chapter 14**

**            Whispers from the night wind brought tidings of great pain, of blood, of screams. Whispers brought tidings of Marrow… the one who was alone, and who was destined to be alone… perhaps 'til her death, but given the current circumstances, that couldn't be very far away, now, could it? **

            Whimpers of anguish flew from between the young woman's clenched teeth, her chest heaving horribly in attempts to muffle the dry sobs which racked her body. Merciless. Crimson pooled around her waist, where her body was being stretched taught, this wasn't natural, God, please… and further and… 

"Heiiiii…" the sound forced itself from her Sarah's lungs, more like that of a cat bawling in pain than a thin human scream. No one could know pain like this. The thought had a certain tone to it, but it was as far from comforting as Sarah herself was from the sewers where she could be safe… secure… 

A figure forced itself into Sarah's line of sight, radiating a power so palpable that she was sure that if she could draw a bone from her shoulder, the resistance that it would meet before she could bring the familiar weight down would cause the thing to shatter like so much blown glass. Through pain dimmed eyes, Marrow knew that this time was her last chance. After this, she would die. X-men… they weren't here, were they? Had they, with their perfect, immaculate sets of scruples decided that Marrow was such a danger after all, that she _should _be left to be exterminated? Fools. Survival of the fittest, no? Marrow, just this once would prove how fit she was. 

            "Mutant filth. You disgust me. Your kind is a plague…"

            "Plague on the earth, gum on your shoes, perverts of the landscape?"  

            "I have NO TIME for your ripostes, o insignificant one. Do you value your life?"  The powerhouse of a man drew Sarah close to his face by the neck of her uniform. "Do you wish to live?" Something foul-smelling and rancid drifted into Marrow's senses, and the need to gag hit her like a cannonball. Chambers deep within him surfaced, that mouth brought fire, and she knew it with every shred of her being.

            "I value my life. Evidently, you do too, otherwise, what the fuck am I doing here?"

            The blow which struck was not unexpected. The acceptance that she felt was that of a child who had just discovered that it was rice 'for dinner again.' The one thing that this brought to her mind was that perhaps the value that she felt for her life was not as strong as she thought it was. Did she really care this much?

             "I know what you want."

            "Do you, mutant? Be so kind as to hand me your head on a platter, would you? There's a _good girl."_

She ignored his sneering comments. In the grand scheme, they weren't important. Certainly, they wouldn't be important when he heard the 'thunk' of her bone missile piercing his flesh. She wouldn't care then. Doubtful that they would even be remembered, at the sweet sight of blood gushing from a fatal wound… and this time, it wouldn't be blood on his hands. The marauders. They would all die. Then, they'd have a play date in their own little inferno. Perhaps Sarah would meet them there. 

            "You want to destroy the mutant coven which the man known as Xavier has created. You want to smell the mutant flesh crisping… sweet meat, no? I know where they reside… and I could get you past the security, couldn't I? What with, well, me being one of them and all." Sarcastic innocence crept into her voice at the last sentence. One of them. Hah. That's the last thing that they would ever want. 

            "Yes, wench. I would to smell the crisping mutants in that household, as I once would have wanted to send the Morlocks straight to hell." He gave a mocking laugh, and Sarah only maintained her sense of peace, knowing that she would make his laugh into a scream. Hopefully sooner rather than later.  

            "I can lead you to them… and I will. Assuming you'll spare my life, of course." Of course. Naturally.  Obviously. As you would expect.

The smile of conquest that the shadow-obscured man gave would have made a snake's blood run cold. But not Marrow. Marrow would survive…

            Rogue stepped out of the X-jet, bleary-eyed from the trip, and lack of eye-to-eye stimulation. She hadn't said a word to Remy for the duration of the flight… she couldn't. What was there to say? "Remy, you led the Marauders to the Morlocks. Gotcha. But, ah, love ya anyway, hun." A dry laugh escaped her darkly painted lips. Right. 

            Remy, for his part was anxious to start looking for Sarah. Perchance if he could… could find her, rescue her, even, if the need be… there might be a chance of redemption. Salvation. Chance of ending up at the pearlies instead of heading down to 'take the heat.' …and also a chance to prove to Sarah that he really did want to be her friend, corny, and typical as it may sound. A chance to prove he cared. 

Once again, sorry for the … um… temporary death of this piece. *bows*

Casu consulto,

~Nightfan


End file.
